MEDICINE MAN

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Sha Tha Shaman

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A fine leader
It's sha with the la like shalla raekwon
Big steam engine speaking
Muffler heat smoke trails of reefer
Made a bong song never talked for too long skeeter
So underground I'm digging up from under ya television receiver
Stake in the shroud shocking lightning rod sounds
Walking with a limp cuz he couldn't help but carry another pound
Crowd mounds sonic rounds
Hadda run downtown hatch another howling cloud of smoke
Hyeina preacher scowl when he tokes
Live in ya speakers now, after the notes
He wrote with broken hands to click to ticks
Of the hi hat hit
Ah shit
Wigs split
The way that he was listenin to mint samples to clip
Rambled a bit
Dismantled your bitch
Now you standin, no plans then, wait to have the vodka and the fifth

He must be too fuckin drunk to take a stand fo it
Reprimand
L in hand
One more puff, stood back up
Now he's an entertainer with too many fans
Different stands wit em next to a bunch of other adjectives canned
Precisely picked the puffin pieces for his spliff that he twisted up with cabbages
have some more of that shit, why dont ya?
i got five on it if theres to many hits for ya
the l that just unloaded folders makin
Vinyl that was always in rotation
Records in creations
The process in gestation
Like waiting for some firecrackers bakin
Lyrical highs
Are constantly makin us feel beyond average
Inhabit another way to exact a flow
Ravaging a track to throw
Low class blasting Cassanova flaunta' show boat told
Cast to the mold, the Shaman when pen strokes fold
Median beats made With rosarie beads, Strolling past street feinds
Rollin la by any means, I guess that nothing beats the steeze
Hold ya cheese til it's cured to eat please
Smile for your picture, freezing thoughts to throw to scriptures
Listed figures of sutras
Alluded fuzz, Sassoon's, and looters
Cold hard movers, peace to all the Brothas with hard looks
Not the ops, the right minded shooter

Desperado loser when he turns to slow to blast

Laying back on a stain of rap
Walked away with a designer decal on my back
On a fast track crashing to grab the cash up
How many more times does he need to shake his tip cup?
From the back to the front, change that was covered in rust
Wax slabs rearranged, bring the beats back us, rap styles feigned
Cuz you could never be the shaman to trust to listen to

Writin pipin out the garble that was scraped from out the garbage and it flew
To the top of expertise without blockin any moves
Kept in folders holdin strollin over beats
I bequeath the next rhyme flippin over just like the wind to a leqf
Or an Ora that never stops to flee
From the moment to the dome to the record melted to my degrees
Never leave a single section untangled
Stretch it out like the that taffy ya chew or the gum that dangles
Like the bottom half of oral cavities ravaging vulnerability from all the angles
But from the section of my shape I state that I can see the hurt that left you mangled
MC got you mothafuckas dreamin medicine from minute men teemin
To the brink of absolution from expressions through indicative courses
Sources forced to tourin pouring out the casement endorsin sentiment never leavin

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